


The Wedding Day

by Cissmoll



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cissmoll/pseuds/Cissmoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fang looked at their joined hands, one pair clad in white lace, one pair covered in henna tattoos. The hands were as different as night and day, just like the women they belonged to. They had always been each other’s opposites, which was why fit together so perfectly.”<br/>Just a short, simple fanille wedding fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wedding Day

Fang was nervous. She was sweating, her hands were shaking, and she could finally understand the meaning of the expression “stomach full of butterflies”. _This is ridiculous,_ she thought, irritated by her own body’s reactions. _I’ve dreamt of this day for over 1600 years. I shouldn’t be nervous about this._

A loud knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts. “Fang? How is it going in there?” Serah shouted from outside the changing room. “We’re all ready for you. Lightning is even wearing the sari.”

Fang grinned. “How did she take it?” she yelled back.

“She’s really pissed off. It’s hilarious.” Serah giggled. “Do you need anything?”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll be out in a minute.”

She could hear Serah hurry down the stairs again, probably to check on Vanille. Even though Serah was Vanille’s maid of honor, she’d been the one to help Fang dress and put on makeup. Lightning was a woman of many talents, but helping someone into a sari was not one of them.   

Fang looked at herself in the mirror. In the reflection, she saw a true Yun-tribe bride. The red sari was draped over her shoulder and fell all the way to the floor. It was ornamented with golden gems and embroidery, matching the golden tika in her hair. Her hands and feet were adorned with intricate patterns made in henna. She looked exactly like she’d always dreamt she would look on her wedding day, and it almost made her tear up.

Someone knocked on the door again, this time harder than before. “Fang?” said the older Farron sister. “Are you there?”

“Yeah.” Fang couldn’t help but grin at the grumpiness in Lightning’s voice.

The door opened, and in came a pink-haired woman dressed in a purple sari. She was frowning and looking somewhat uncomfortable, but she still looked beautiful in the traditional garment.

“Well, look at that,” Fang said, her grin widening. “I never thought Serah would manage to get you to wear it. You look great.”

Lightning glared at her friend. “You could have warned me first.”

“You would have done anything in your power to get out of wearing it,” Fang said. “Besides, did you really believe I’d let my maid of honor wear ‘whatever she felt like’ on my wedding?”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” Lightning muttered. “I don’t look good in fancy things like this.” She pulled a little at the fabric of the sari, wrinkling her nose.

“You look great,” Fang said, smiling warmly. “And it means a lot to me that you’re wearing it.”

Lightning sighed, and then she smiled back. “It’s your wedding day. If you want me to wear a sari, I will wear a sari.”

Lightning’s words almost made Fang tear up again. “Dammit, Light, you’re making me ruin my makeup.” She blinked fast a couple of times, forcing the tears away. After checking herself in the mirror, she took a deep, strengthening breath. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s get this wedding started.”

They left the changing room together. Serah was waiting for them right outside the chapel, wearing a strapless cocktail dress in the same color as Lightning’s sari.

“Vanille will be here any minute,” Serah said, smiling. “You look amazing, Fang.”

“Thanks,” Fang said, a little distracted. Her eyes were fixed at the door leading to Vanille’s changing room. She hadn’t seen Vanille’s dress yet, but she knew she would be wearing a white gown, following the customs of the Dia tribe.

The door opened, and Fang’s heart nearly stopped. _She’s perfect,_ she thought. _Absolutely perfect._

Vanille smiled when she noticed the group, blushing faintly as she approached them. She had put her hair up in a bun, leaving out some wavy strands from her bangs to frame her face. The dress was sleeveless like Serah’s, the silk hugging her slender curves tightly on her upper body while flowing freely around her legs. Over the white fabric was a thin layer of white lace, matching the gloves on her hands and the veil attached to her hair. In Fang’s eyes, she looked like a princess. _My princess._

“Oh, Fang, you’re so beautiful,” Vanille said, taking Fang’s hands in hers. Fang looked at their joined hands, one pair clad in white lace, one pair covered in henna tattoos. The hands were as different as night and day, just like the women they belonged to. They had always been each other’s opposites, which was why fit together so perfectly. Fang’s vision started to blur.

“Don’t cry,” Vanille said, letting go of one hand so she could wipe the tear off Fang’s cheek. “It’s your wedding day. This should be the happiest day of your life.”

Fang smiled at her beautiful bride. “It already is. That’s why I’m crying.”

They walked together down the aisle. The audience wasn’t big, but Fang didn’t mind it. Everyone she cared about was there to witness their union, and that was all that mattered.

Vanille started sobbing halfway through the priest’s speech.

“Don’t cry,” Fang whispered, ignoring the glare the priest sent her the moment she opened her mouth. “It’s your wedding day.”

Vanille smiled, smiling brightly through her tears. “I know,” she whispered back, “that’s why I’m crying.”

When the priest finally allowed them to kiss, Fang didn’t waste a single second. She kissed Vanille hard on the lips, putting all her love into it. Vanille answered it eagerly, burrowing her hands in Fang’s sari.

When the kiss started to go from romantic to somewhat indecent, Vanille pulled back. She had black smudges of mascara under her eyes, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were shimmering with joy. “Together forever?” she whispered, looking deep into her soul mate’s – and now wife’s – eyes.

Fang smiled and nodded. She had never been more certain about anything in her life. “Together forever.”


End file.
